Nivrad00
Elder Member
Discordia is finally out! The game disks are being distributed to stores all over just at the moment, and copies are being sent to the mailboxes of those who pre-ordered. Hundreds will check their mail today, and find a CD case labeled Discordia: the New World.People all over the country will rush outside in near-synchronization. No one's ever been more glad to see their post office truck.
But there were several faulty disks delivered. These disks are damaged, maybe hijacked, and certainly dangerous. The news asks all buyers of Discordia to be careful; these disks might completely crash your CPUs.
Then again, of course, there is one side-effect nobody saw coming.
l-l-l-l-l-l-l-l
Randell Dean was a bit sluggish to get out of bed. There was a kind of uplifted atmosphere, a feeling that something should happen today; but it wasn't anyone's birthday, and as far as he could tell there was no holiday on the 18th of February. Still hampered by sleep- and the late night he had spent last evening- he rolled out of bed, blinking and smoothing down his shirt. He stumbled to the bathroom, and only felt marginally better after splashing water on his face.
Thinking straighter now, he smelled bacon from the first floor. Breakfast would be ready soon... but, he still had some time. Randy strode back to his room and thumbed the power button on his small computer. Hearing the bleeps and blops coming from the speakers, he puzzled over what he had thought was so special about the day. Wasn't it just another slow Saturday?
The desktop loaded with the trademark Windows sound, and Randy didn't hesitate to scroll his cursor quickly to an icon labeled League of Legends. But before he clicked it, he paused.
In the silence, he faintly heard his mother yelling at his younger sister downstairs.
Then he leapt up. Of course! My God, how had he not remembered- He ran out of his room, pushing the door shut behind him, and slid down the stairs two at a time. Downstairs, he forced himself to nod amiably to his sister and mother, standing near a pile of broken glass where a vase had been the day before. Before they could respond, Randy quickly went outside and ran over to the mailbox.
Discordia was out that day.
--- Merged Double Post ---
Randy thumbed through the advertisements and business letters until he found- at the very bottom- a CD case, labeled with the Discordia logo. Grinning, he shut the mailbox and strode back to the house, reading the back of the case and ignoring the neighbor's barking dog.
When he went in the door, his mother was muttering furiously as she swept up shards of pottery, as his sister watched from behind, looking contrite. Although, while his mother was bent over, his sister reached over and plucked a strip of bacon off of the frying pan. She chewed it thoughtfully and waved at Randy.
Upstairs, he kicked at the disk ejection button, took a CD out and while struggling with the Discordia case. After a few strenuous moments, the plastic popped open and Randy slid the disk into the CPU with practiced ease.
The screen read, "Do you wish to open or save this file?"
He clicked save.
A loading bar ran agonizingly slowly under the gray pop-up, and when it eventually filled, something new appeared. His screen turned brown-ish gold, and an ornate border ran around the edges. There were dragons, and swords, and hammers, and trees and stormclouds and oases and potions all woven into the design, melding intricately. In the center, a prompt read in flowing script: What is your name?
Underneath, Randy thought for a moment before typing "Dean." It was what he used for other sites. Then he clicked the button that said Proceed to Discordia.
A rotating hourglass appeared over the prompt, which drew sand from one segment to the other, over, and over, and over....
And then, suddenly, there was a white-hot flash- Randy covered his eyes and staggered off his chair with a yelp- that blinded him for a few moments. Along with it came a loud sound not unlike a backfire from his CPU. When his eyes refocused, he saw an angry blue screen dominating his computer. Text scrolled through his vision. "WARNING- FATAL ERROR ENCOUNTERED. FATAL ERROR. PLEASE RE-" The screen spasmed black and white, then fuzzed over, then blinked out to an unmovable black before Randy could respond. Gaping aimlessly, he stood frozen for half a second before he bent down and hit the blank power button. When nothing happened, he hit it again. And again. And again.
Agitated, he grabbed a screwdriver from off a high shelf in his room and unscrewed the side of his CPU. A cloud of smoke plumed out from the metal, and Randy was set coughing. The inside of his computer was charred and twisted. He saw one part of the computer chip; it was bent and melted almost beyond recognition.
After a few seconds, just sitting there, Randy said, "Oh my God."
"What was that?" called a voice from downstairs.
"Nothing," he responded, dazed. "Just, my computer exploded."
There was a skeptical silence, then the sound of the sink running.
Randy stared. Sitting in the middle of the wreckage was the CD, somehow unharmed. It seemed to gloat at him, going, Haha! I killed your computer!